


Sleeping with the Enemy

by thesentimentalist



Series: Good Omens Works [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 09:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19170916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesentimentalist/pseuds/thesentimentalist
Summary: If Aziraphale thought it had been nice before, it was nothing compared to how he felt when Crowley’s legs brushed against his.





	Sleeping with the Enemy

They arrived back at Crowley’s apartment late, very late. Crowley kicked off his shoes at the door and staggered onward. Aziraphale started after him, wavered, stopped, and ended up standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room.  
Crowley popped his head back into the room.  
“Angel?”  
“What . . . what do we?”  
“I’m beat angel, I’m going to sleep. You should join me. You might like it.”  
He popped back out again, leaving Aziraphale more off kilter than ever. He had never slept. He had never seen the point. Crowley seemed to enjoy it, but the idea of lying still for 7 hours at a stretch seemed rather dull. Still. His body felt heavy. He sighed heavily. Maybe some sleep would do him good after all. He ran into Crowley, wearing pants made from black silk, in the labyrinthine hallway.  
“How do you sleep?” Aziraphale asked.  
Crowley looked taken aback.  
“You’ve never slept before?”  
“No.”  
“Not even tried?”  
“No. Humans seem to attach certain rituals to it though, and I– “  
“Well, you’ll want to change into something less tweedy too start.” Crowley said, circling Aziraphale and eyeing him up and down.  
He snapped his fingers, and a pile of white fabric appeared in Aziraphale’s arms.  
“Bathroom is the first door on the left.” Crowley said, “Bedroom’s across the hall.”  
Aziraphale changed into the astonishingly soft garments and went back into the hall, still rubbing the seams between his fingers.  
Crowley led him to the bedroom and lay down on an enormous bed. Aziraphale stood by the side of the bed, hesitantly.  
“What now?”  
Crowley lifted the covers, scooted over, and patted the mattress. Aziraphale crawled slowly into the bed and lay down next to Crowley, his head sinking into one of the pillows. Crowley threw the blankets over them, enveloping them in a bubble of warmth. It was . . . nice.  
Crowley wiggled his way back over to Aziraphale, and if Aziraphale thought it had been nice before, it was nothing compared to how he felt when Crowley’s legs brushed against his. He shuddered and rolled over into the warmth.  
“Cuddler, eh?” Crowley said, wrapping an arm around Aziraphale’s waist. It was indescribably good, the warm places where Crowley’s skin touched his. Indescribably good, the puff of Crowley’s breath on his ear. Aziraphale felt something he had never realized was tense unraveling, and sighed.  
He opened his eyes to find Crowley staring at him, only to hide his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder once he realized he’d been caught. Aziraphale reached up and combed his fingers through Crowley’s hair, saying nothing.  
They would have time to talk later.


End file.
